Sons of Anarchy Season Zero: The Crow's Nest

by Cole Ortiz

When John Teller and Piney Winston seek revenge for the man who saved their lives in Vietnam, they find themselves trapped on a path they will never escape from. Set amid the criminal and political violence overtaking 1960s California, this prequel is the story of how JT and his close friends found the club to protect themselves, their town and everything they hold dear.

24. Under the Weather

CHAPTER 25: UNDER THE WEATHER

DOWNTOWN CHARMING

JT raced his Harley motorcycle around the increasingly heavy traffic building up around downtown Charming as spectators began arriving early for the Veterans Day parade and celebration. He quickly squealed to a stop right by the entrance to the town square, which was now covered with carnival rides and games including a large ferris wheel and vendors with food trucks selling cotton candy and hot dogs. This family friendly fun was supposed to complement the parade, but seemed to draw as many people. Some groups of anti-military protesters had arrived, but they were separated by barricades manned by officers from several different police departments including the state police. This being Charming, though, they were heavily outnumbered by those who were here to partake in the festivities and to support the soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines who had served America.

"What's going on, JT?" Clay asked as he made around the long lines at one of the lemonade stands.

"Frisco and his remaining men attacked the clubhouse. Geraldo Morales and Marcus Alvarez arrived at the last minute and saved our ass, and their own. They also captured Special Agent Tasker and brought him to us."

"Where's he at?"

"At the clubhouse, dead, along with Frisco…."

"Jesus Christ, Tasker was a fucking bastard but killing a Federal agent, man…."

"You gotta listen to me, we interrogated him and he's been working with Frisco the entire time. Frisco is teaming up with the Weathermen again and Professor Rogers's cell is planning an attack today on this event!"

"What?" Piney asked.

"Yes, so y'all need to listen carefully. They're planning a massive explosion, we're guessing another car bomb, at the parade itself in order to inflict max casualties. Then they have a secondary team planning another attack at St. Thomas Hospital to finish off the wounded."

"Motherfucking sons of bitches," Clay exclaimed. "Attacking a goddamn hospital!"

"Do we have any idea who we're looking for by now?" Keith asked.

"Unser has been able to work his contacts at the Marin County DMV and the Berkeley campus police. We're looking for a gray BMW 2002 Turbo with license plate RTY457, registered to a Berkeley student who's a member of the Weathermen cell, and a light blue Pontiac Bonneville registered to Rogers himself, license plate JKW941."

"Okay, I think we need to step up our patrols immediately if they're not willing to shut down this event due to this threat," Piney said.

"Maybe it's best that we deal with this now," Clay said, "We cancel this event we'll never flush them out. These bastards have already made clear their intentions against this town. One day they'll come at us when we least expect us. We need to finish this bullshit once and for all."

"Aye, brother," said Keith. "We're taking on those bloody bastards right now."

FBI FIELD OFFICE, SAN FRANCISCO

Agent Bradley Smalls entered the room just as field office head Nathan Jarrett was putting down his cup of coffee onto his large, expansive oak desk.

"Any news, Agent Smalls?"

"Still no word from Tasker and he hasn't reported to the security command post in Charming for the parade yet."

"Well he certainly isn't a fan of the veterans, trying to delay his arrival as much as he can, I reckon. Weird for such a career obsessed guy though," commented Jarrett.

"I had some agents check his apartment. It's empty and his car's still in the garage but he hasn't been seen anywhere on the premises all morning," Smalls informed him.

"Yeah, that's strange. Really doesn't sound like Tasker."

"There is something, though," Smalls said. "Just a hunch, but…."

"You're an FBI agent, not some local county sheriff's deputy, you hunch matters."

"I suspect Tasker's source, or contacts in this investigation, if you will, are the Mayans."

Jarrett looked up with an incredulous look on his face."What makes you say that?"

"A disproportionate number of his meets have been with Mexicans or have taken place in Mexican neighborhoods, and among the Mexican community only the Mayans would have a lot of info regarding the Sons of Anarchy. After all they're rivals and have a vested interest in helping us bring down the Sons. The local police at the command post did mention a large group of what may be Mayan bikers entering Charming, some of them in the vicinity of Teller Automotive Repair."

"Teller, as in John Teller?" he said in shock.

"Yes, sir. The repair shop's owned by JT's father Clyde Teller and we believe it's the location of the Sons of Anarchy clubhouse."

"I want a chopper ready on the helipad in five minutes. We're going to bring some guys over there and check it out."

"Right away, sir, and I'll contact the San Joaquin County courthouse to get a judge to sign off on a warrant."

"No time for that. We'll enter the grounds on the premises that we need it for a security overlook position due to a credible threat to the Charming parade."

"Yes, sir. I'll have the chopper ready immediately."

CHARMING TOWN SQUARE

"Just got off the radio dispatch with the state police," Unser said to the Sons assembled at the town square carnival.

"Okay, here's the weak spots I've identified along the parade route based on the police security plans," JT said, pointing to a large fold-out map of Charming. "We've got the underpass by the railroad bridge on 7th Avenue where we got these blind spots that they can access from multiple directions. We've got the area by the CHS football field which they can easily access via the school parking lot. We know their timing's fortunately been thrown off by the tractor trailer wreck but there's too many unknowns here. That's just the parade route but they can enter Charming from so many different routes."

"I got an idea," Chico spoke up.

"What you got for us?" JT asked.

"If Agent Tasker helped the Weathermen, then Rogers's people know not just the security preparations but the specific route of the parade."

"That's been published well in advance…." Clay began

"Not just the route. The order the various groups will be marching within the parade. The specific lineup, that's what we're talking about. The Berkeley cell is about a lot of stuff, but above all their hate is directed toward the military. Think about it, the veterans are what this entire day's about. And we've always been their primary targets."

JT slapped Chico on the back. "Good thinking, man. That's the assumption we're going to be operating on. In that case, without Tasker there, they will probably send another terrorist in a different vehicle to scout the location.

"The team targeting the hospital will most likely be taking another route and be in communication with the others," Keith said, "We assume they have military-style radios so they won't be relying on pay phones. If we head out now, though, we might find all of our targets still close to each other due to the traffic jam."

Keith looked at the map again. He knew much about urban terrorism from his days in Belfast and thought about what he would do if he was a terrorist targeting Charming. "If I was them, I would approach the hospital via Oakwood Road right here on the West End. If Charming PD can set up a police presence there it would delay their approach to the hospital. The high school also provides easy access to downtown if the other team cuts across there to target the parade. That's in addition to the other possible attack points you've mentioned, JT."

AIRBORNE OVER THE EAST BAY

"Dammit, watch the turbulence!" Special Agent in Charge Jarrett admonished the pilot of the FBI helicopter as a gust over San Francisco Bay tossed the bird around a bit. The aircraft leveled off now that they were back over land, flying over the grim industrial East Bay suburb of Hayward. He was already in a foul mood. He hated having to clean up Tasker's mess. For Jarrett, it was only about protecting his own well-paid career. That, and making sure the local authorities respected Washington's will.

"Charming PD's blowing up my radio! Chief Hancock wants to talk to you."

"What does that son of a bitch want now?" Jarrett cursed. "Put him through."

"This is Special Agent in Charge Jarrett," he said, his voice dripping with condescension as he stressed his official title. With him, it was always clear what the pecking order was. "I assume you have something for me finally regarding the whereabouts of Agent Tasker as I've ordered you?"

"We are still looking into that, sir, but I'm calling in regards to the threats against the parade. They're more credible than…."

"Well?" Jarrett interrupted him.

"We've identified specific suspects planning a large-scale terrorist attack. A professor at UC Berkeley named Walt Rogers and one of his students, Mike Grayson who is a member of the Weather Underground cell there. We have the vehicles registered to them and we believe they're heading to Charming as we speak."

"Oh and how did you come across such detailed information?" asked Jarrett.

"I….I can't reveal my sources now but they're reliable. I swear to God."

"You can't reveal your sources? They don't happen to be members of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, would they now?"

"Sir, with respect, you have to trust us on this. Charming's our town and we know…."

"You don't got shit if you can't tell me your specific source and how they obtained this alleged information. Now instead of going on your own little paranoid investigation there, why don't you do as I ordered and start questioning people about Tasker? I expect some answers when I land." He disconnected the radio before Hancock could respond.

DOWNTOWN CHARMING

JT was in full command mode now as it was clear federal law enforcement was definitely not on there side.

"I can't believe this, JT," Unser said.

"But you and your men, including Chief Hancock trust us on this."

Unser sighed. "Yeah, it's a deal with the devil, but we're out of other options. Washington certainly ain't gonna help."

"Okay I need you to get us access to the water tower to Keith can get up there with the binoculars and sniper rifle and survey the entire town. He should be able to see some of the main approaches. If you can spare some men that would be great too, and see if the county sheriffs can spare some extra sharpshooters on the rooftops overlooking the carnival and the parade route."

"You got it, JT. I'll go make the call now," Unser said, then excused himself so he could go back to his patrol car and use his police radio to call for access to the water company's property. Keith set out with Officer Tincher, speeding away toward the water tower, the tallest structure in Charming at 190 feet.

"Piney, Clay, you come with me. We're going to head for Route 99 see if they're coming in that way. The rest of you will go with Chico and head toward Main Street. From the map it looks like 4th Avenue may be a possibly weak spot too. Alright, let's move!"

CHARMING WATER TOWER

Thankfully the water company already had the gate around the tower, erected to prevent drunk high school kids from climbing the ladder on weekend nights, open when Keith and Tincher pulled up.

"I guess I shouldn't ask you where the hell you got all those weapons," Tincher said. There were rumors some were purchased from a local anti-government militia but none of it was confirmed.

"You're right, you shouldn't ask," Keith said in his thick Irish accent. He quickly climbed up the metal ladder heading to the top, emerging onto a walkway with a commanding 360 degree view of all of Charming. He immediately focused his binoculars on the approach on Route 99 from the west and zoomed in, seeing that traffic was already moving again following the tractor trailer accident. Sure enough, he saw the BMW 2002 Turbo and the Pontiac Bonneville approaching. While he couldn't make out the license plates, there was no way this was a coincidence. Good, they had the element of surprise as the Weathermen obviously had no idea anyone was on to them.

Keith took out his radio. "I have a visual on the attackers."

CHARMING WEST END

JT, Piney, and Clay sped down the nearly deserted Sycamore Avenue which led through a leafy residential neighborhood then out toward some food processing facilities where Charming met the surrounding farm country. "Okay, I've got an eye on those bastards," Clay said, pointing at the slow moving traffic.

"Okay, take them out now."

Unfortunately the cornfield they were in now provided no cover and their trail of dust attracted the attention of their targets.

"Look, what the…." Mike said from the vehicle.

"That's a bike alright, looks like the Sons are here," another Weatherman said. "How the hell did this happen?"

"Frisco's people must have screwed up their parts and now they're onto us," Rogers said. "Well that goddamn explains why they're not responding to our calls! We need to split up right now." Rogers motioned out the window and the other Weathermen vehicle pulled over to the shoulder, the sudden braking causing some traffic to honk at them.

"Mike, you stay with me. You still have a clear path to the parade. Deanna and the rest will head toward St. Thomas Hospital."

"Shit, but the timing will be even more fucked than it is already! The hospital's supposed to be attacked after the casualties from the parade start going in!" Deanna pointed out.

"We need to do what we can, Deanna, you got that? Now go! Do what Comrade Jimmy would have done. Alinsky's counting on it."

"Yes, sir, Professor!"

Mike immediately turned his luxury car, paid for by his parents' trust fund, back across the highway and crossed the median, causing several vehicles to swerve into the ditch to avoid him, then started cutting across the cornfield. Deanna, accompanied by three Weather Underground terrorists, look control of Professor Rogers's vehicle and crashed through a chain link fence, going onto an access road parallel to the highway.

"Shit! They're splitting up! I'm going to follow Rogers's vehicle!" JT shouted into the radio. "Clay, Piney come on! Everyone else take out the BMW! And watch your aim, either or both vehicles will be carrying explosives!"

Deanna made a sharp right onto a dirt path that cut across the giant cornfield as she saw the motorcycles approaching her. The Weathermen in the backseat rolled down the rear passenger windows and began opening fire with their AK-47s, dozens of muzzle flashes emerging from the vehicle. JT, Piney, and Clay headed straight into the stalks of corn, following a narrow path.

"Fuck, we're losing time!" Piney said. By now, the Pontiac Deanna was driving had made it down the driveway of the farmhouse and was now on County Road 622 which eventually led to the larger thoroughfare of McKeldin Street as it entered the city limits and turned into 9th Avenue at the railroad underpass.

DOWNTOWN CHARMING STREETS

Chico immediately saw the BMW make a sudden turn onto an industrial road and revved his engines, getting the other Sons to follow him. Ignoring the stares of onlookers, Chico jumped the curb and led Lenny and Thomas on a shortcut right through a motel property, shocking several people as they sped through the parking lot then along the narrow walkways separating the motel rooms. They ended up in the central courtyard where the motel's pool was located. Several guests jumped into the pool in order to get out of the bike's path in time. They then sped past the front office and onto Cedar Grove Avenue, one of Charming's newer major roads which was lined by a median planted with trees and flowers.

"Try to drive them into my line of fire!" Keith radioed Chico.

"Got it!" Chico replied.

By now the terrorists were also engaging Chico's team as they were now only two blocks behind. The motel shortcut certainly helped. Several rounds from an East German Wieger StG-940 assault rifle struck Lenny's handlebars but he maintained control of the bike.

"Speed up! Dammit!" Rogers shouted to the driver. "Make a right in four more blocks, that should take you onto Wahewa Landing Way! Mike, continue to engage, we have to lose them!"

Mike lobbed a grenade out the back window, and Thomas saw the object rolling along the street. The Sons went onto the opposite sidewalks, closing their eyes as the fragmentation grenade exploded in the middle of the street. They felt the heat wave coming over them but thankfully was far enough that the shrapnel from damaged cars and storefront windows didn't strike them.

A gust of wind blew the next grenade across the median where it landed on the street just as an Oldsmobile 88 was driving past that location. The grenade explosion flipped the Oldsmobile onto its back and ignited a fiery second explosion that killed its driver and passenger and sent part of a billboard raining down on the street and forcing pedestrians to scramble for cover.

"Son of a bitch!" Thomas said as he was pelted by pieces of the billboard. Thankfully he had his helmet even though state law didn't require it yet.

"Lenny you try to flank them!" Chico shouted.

Two terrorists opened fire as the Sons continued to give chase, the bullets striking trees, mailboxes and parked vehicles as Chico continued to ride down the sidewalk. Mike tossed two more grenades out the back. Chico and Thomas had to swerve very quickly and the grenade rolled past, exploding behind them.

Yet another grenade was thrown. "Jesus fucking Christ, these people!" Chico shouted to himself. Chico rode his bike onto the roofs of a line of parked cars, the grenade exploding far to his left and demolishing several park benches and sending tools from a hardware store flying out onto the street.

"Fuck, they're still coming! Those goddamn bastards!" Rogers said in a panicky voice. "Get one of the Claymores! We have to lose them! Remember your training!" They were now taking the shortcut through the high school, driving along the track inside the stadium.

One of the terrorists tossed a Claymore mine out the window then Mike blasted it with his Wieger rifle. An enormous explosion appeared in the middle of the field. The force of the blast carried Lenny off his bike, slamming him hard into the ground. Thankfully it was the middle of the football field rather than blacktop.

"My fucking leg's broken!" Lenny shouted in pain, "Y'all go on and get them!"

FBI HELICOPTER, AIRBORNE OVER THE CENTRAL VALLEY

"Are you sure?" Smalls asked in a concerned voice then handed the radio over to Jarrett. "You need to take this. Guess those trailer trash bikers were onto something after all."

"Sir!" Chief Hancock shouted into the phone, "We've had reports of gunfire and explosions all over town. We need backup now!"

"We're on our way. ETA fifteen minutes. And I'll send the alert out to our people on the ground in Charming coordinating the security preparations."

"We need to divert some of the resources to St. Thomas Hospital. Look, the Sons have been right so far. We have to assume the terrorists also intend to attack to hospital!"

"I need to get to you on that." He disconnected the radio.

"Well I'll be damned, they're right about something." He turned to Agent Smalls. "What's your take on this?" Smalls knew what Jarrett was doing. He usually didn't asked for his subordinate's opinion, but in a situation like this he wanted some feedback so that if something went wrong, Smalls would be blamed for it.

"I doubt the Sons intel is that perfect," Smalls finally said. "Now imagine if we divert resources to the hospital and there's no attack there and we have more casualties at the parade, we won't be able to explain ourselves if we screwed up because we trusted intel from a fucking biker gang!"

Jarrett nodded. "I agree. We should have our people respond to events as they occur."

CHARMING PARADE ROUTE

The Charming Veterans Day parade began right on time, being led by the Homecoming King and Queen from Charming High School riding in a convertible with the U.S. and California flags flying from the back, then the cheerleaders and the high school marching band carrying a banner with the Charming town seal and a message thanking the men and women who have served in the U.S. military. Following behind them was the local boy scout troop and members of the local Moose Lodge and Eagles Club which had done much to support the veterans. Further back were the veterans themselves, separated by their branch of service.

Despite the heavy police presence, the mood was festive. Families dressed in patriotic attire waved American flags and cheered on the vets, often shouting "USA! USA!" as the marching band played The Stars and Stripes Forever and the Marine Corps Hymn. Unser forced himself to keep a calm face despite the threats so that nobody would panic. He spoke in his radio again to Officer Gao from San Francisco.

"You're sure you've gone through all the pictures?" Gao asked.

"Yes! I don't see any of them here! Could there be anything else?"

"My men raided two known Weather Underground hideouts here in the city today and questioned some members. They swore they didn't know of any plan to send people to Charming early. They told me Deanna is the only person truly familiar with the town."

"Ray, are you really suggesting..."

"I think the Weathermen have someone inside Charming feeding them information about how the parade's progressing. That's the only way Rogers can launch a pinpoint attack to kill as many vets as possible."

Then as Unser watched the staging ground for the parade, he noticed that something was off about a particular young college-aged black man in a Navy uniform who had just arrived for the parade. His dress blues were too long, and overlapped with his shoes, causing the bottom part of the dress pants to be muddy. A real Navy sailor would never allow this to happen, and there was something about this person's demeanor and gait that was more like a college student and less like a Navy man. It was more and more clear to Unser that the uniform probably didn't belong to this guy. Yet Unser had to be sure if he was going to make a scene.

"Hey, I recognize that pin," Wayne said, pointing to one of the pins on his uniform. "USS Midway?"

"Yes, sir, indeed," the man replied. So far nothing had seemed out of the ordinary, but Unser trusted his instincts.

"You know, my brother served on that ship. He was a pilot, personally downed three of those commie bastards during a sortie over the North."

"What was his name?"

"James Unser."

"Ah yes, didn't know him personally, but he was a big deal. Everyone on board talked about how badass he was in that cockpit."

"He told me the way back was quite the good time. Especially that week in Hawaii. Too bad I had to miss out on that. Failed the physicals, you know?"

"Definitely, man. Can't beat Honolulu, you got pussy everywhere, girls them much better looking than Saigon."

Unser grabbed him by the collar and hurled him out of the crowd into an alleyway. "Charming PD, I got this," he said to the surrounding people whose attention he had drawn.

"What the fuck, man? You crazy?"

Upon grabbing the man's collar, Unser knew he had the right guy, since he saw the tattoo of Elijah Muhammad on the young man's shoulder. Elijah Muhammad was the founder of the Nation of Islam, a violent group of Black Muslims opposed to Martin Luther King's peaceful movement. They were known for working with the Weathermen.

"What the fuck is your problem?" the Black Muslim asked again.

"You tell me!" Wayne said. "The Midway never stopped in Hawaii. Sailed straight between Alameda and the Gulf of Tonkin." Unser first grabbed the man's wallet and sure enough, it contained a student ID from UC Berkeley identifying him as Tavon Gravely. Unser recognized that name and remembered that his brother Steve Gravely was indeed in the Navy, as was their father. A decent God fearing Christian family. Tavon must be the black sheep of the family. Unser looked again at the tattoo. "Nation of Islam? You working with the Weathermen aren't you, you son of a bitch? You're their contact in the parade. Now where did you get this uniform."

"From my brother. He's dead, just like you're about to be, cracker."

Tavon charged at Unser with a military-issue hunting knife. One of his attempts managed to cut through Unser's shirt near his shoulder but didn't penetrate his skin. Unser blocked the next blow and drew his service weapon. As Tavon came at him again, Unser sent him flying through a window with three quick shots to the chest.

The sound of the gunshots and the violent scene quickly caused the parade to grind to a halt and the spectators to scream in panic. "Stay calm! The situation is under control! We're under control!" Unser shouted as several other Charming PD officers rushed over, but to no avail.

Spectators and parade participants quickly began to stampede from the scene in panic, the cheerleaders and marching band members dropping their pom poms and instruments in the middle of the street as they screamed and started running. Well at least the parade was off now.

CHARMING STREETS

"Tavon! Come in! Repeat!" Mike shouted into his radio as the BMW drove through the Charming High School parking lot, running over a street sign. While one of the Sons was out of the chase, Mike and Rogers could see two more bikes still chasing him, albeit from a longer distance away now.

"Try a different frequency!" Rogers said.

Mike did as he was told. "Tavon, we need an update on the parade. Respond!" He shook his head. "Tavon's not responding anymore."

"Fuck!" Rogers cursed again. This day was quickly going to hell and he had no idea why. "I don't know how, but they must have gotten to Tavon."

"What do we do now?" Mike asked.

"We press on with the attack, do what we can."

One of the student radicals looked at Rogers. "Look, professor, this isn't what was supposed to happen!" There was fear in his voice. "We were supposed to park this car and destroy the parade from a distance."

"You're supposed to carry out this operation the way I tell you to," Rogers snapped.

"Look, we should throw these guys off our tails and head back to Berkeley."

Rogers turned back around with a Makarov pistol and splattered the student's brains all over the insides of the car. "You don't want to carry on, it's your choice."